


You are the silence between what I though and what I said

by static_abyss



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Merthur Party 2013, Team Yellow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:18:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/static_abyss/pseuds/static_abyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur sees Merlin a little less each day, as though through a filter, other faces getting in the way. There is this town and that town, this hungry child and the next. There are townspeople who need his attention, men who require an army. Arthur can tell there's something wrong only when Merlin stops coming to the meetings Arthur has with the townspeople. He pays attention then and notices that the stoop in Merlin's shoulders becomes more pronounced each day, and Arthur is afraid because he's lost so many people already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are the silence between what I though and what I said

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to debatchery, and to my team because they are THE BEST TEAM EVER. 
> 
> Title taken from No Light, No Light by Florence and The Machine.   
> A warning for in-explicit character death. See notes on the bottom for more details.

Arthur sees Merlin a little less each day, as though through a filter, other faces getting in the way. There is this town and that town, this hungry child and the next. There are townspeople who need his attention, men who require an army. Arthur can tell there's something wrong only when Merlin stops coming to the meetings Arthur has with the townspeople. He pays attention then and notices that the stoop in Merlin's shoulders becomes more pronounced each day. His eyes lose the spark they used to have whenever Merlin looked at Arthur. He smiles less and Arthur can feel the way Merlin is slipping through his fingers and the more Arthur tries to hold on the harder Merlin seems to pull away. Arthur can't tell if it's the teasing, the meaningless chores he assigns because he knows that Merlin will be safe tending to the horses in the stables, safe when Arthur knows where he is. He doesn't know if it's the looks Arthur sends Merlin's way between courses at feasts, the way he tries to let Merlin know exactly what he means to Arthur.

Arthur thinks maybe he scared him away, maybe he pressed too hard. He thinks it might be his fault for grabbing Merlin the night his father died and kissing him, trying to ease the pain by giving in to the one pleasure he had denied himself. He thinks it might be his fault for pressing kisses into the curve of Merlin's neck, for tracing his way up over Merlin's cheekbones, for fucking Merlin, slow and unhurried, over and over until both of them had been reduced to nothing. 

And Arthur is afraid because he's lost so many people already.

*

Merlin sees Arthur. He sees the way Arthur turns into a king, golden on his horse and on his throne. He can see the way those blue eyes watch the people who come in, how sympathy and love shines there. Arthur loves his people, Merlin has never doubted that. What Merlin doubts is just how far Arthur's love can stretch before it snaps, how much of himself he can give before there's nothing left. Merlin knows that one day Arthur will look at him again and when their eyes meet they won't recognize each other, that the words they don't say when they're tangled with each other at night will be against them when the time to talk finally comes. Merlin knows they have to talk soon, but Arthur is king and Merlin must protect him.

*

Arthur has known about Merlin's magic from the moment he was saved in that cave. There was something about the blue light that whispered Merlin to him, something in the air that felt familiar. When spears started moving on their own and branches started hitting men who would have killed him, Arthur knew for sure. He knows Merlin will tell him one day. 

He _hopes_ Merlin will tell him one day. 

Arthur thinks it might be the magic that is the problem, how magic is still banned everywhere but in Camelot. Arthur thinks maybe Merlin is still afraid and he sets out to conquer the other kingdoms, not for himself or for the destiny that barbs sing about. He does it because Merlin's eyes are dull at night even when Arthur kisses him. Dull and lifeless when Arthur murmurs how much he needs Merlin into the curve of Merlin's neck, presses it into the kisses and touches, the press of palms and skin. Arthur shouts it into the rocking of their bodies, the stuttering in his heart and Merlin's. 

There is no other way for Arthur to say it, nothing else for him to do, but conquer the world if it will bring back the light into Merlin's eyes.

He is afraid when he sets out with his knights because there is no light in Merlin's eyes that morning, not even hatred, nothing to let Arthur know that there is still something there. He is afraid because in the light of the morning without the sheets between them, Merlin seems miles away, a stranger among men that Arthur knows well. Understanding comes with the morning light and Arthur gets it; Merlin isn't his, probably never was and never could be. But, Arthur will do everything he can to keep him by his side, will bribe him, will bring entire kingdoms to their knees if only Merlin will stay. Arthur needs him and it scares him how final that is, how definite. 

Arthur needs Merlin.

*

Merlin watches Arthur become a warlord, watches the way blood stains the front of his armour, the blade of his sword. He comes back one evening, a cut on his arm, bruises on his ribs and Merlin wants to strip him down and rub salve into the purple bruises blooming across Arthur's chest and sides. He gets Arthur into the washtub, scrubs his hair clean and ends up sucking new bruises into the unmarked skin on Arthur's chest. Merlin feels like he's losing something, losing the person he used to know. He can feel Arthur running away from him, running into a destiny that used to be theirs, but seems to belong to Arthur now. 

Merlin is extra.

"Would you leave me," Arthur asks that night into Merlin's dark hair. "Would you leave if I told you what I've done?"

Merlin can feel Arthur shaking around him, the body that used to be secure, fragile in Merlin's arms. He watches the way their skin colors contrast. He is pale from the time he spends in the stables, a manservant turned adviser, but only behind closed doors. Arthur is tan from the time he spends in battle, sticking his head out where anyone can cut it off without Merlin to protect him. 

"Merlin," Arthur says and it's a question, almost a quite beg.

Merlin thinks, wonders how Arthur could ever think that Merlin would leave him. Destiny aside, Merlin wouldn't go. He doesn't understand how he and Arthur got to this point where neither of them knows what the other is thinking, where they are both afraid that the other will leave when they both know they can't. 

"You can't choose what stays and what fades," Merlin says into the night, the dark of the room wrapping the words around them.

It's more than an answer, it's a question in return. What they feel isn't something they could have ever chosen. There was no point in time where Merlin had to decide to fall in love with Arthur. It happened, like Uther's death and Morgana's betrayal. It happened like the sun rising or setting, like light through the windows in the morning. It happened because it was meant to happen, natural to the order of things. 

But, Arthur isn't the one who should have asked the question. It's Merlin because he's the one who sees the people when he closes his eyes. He sees Morgana's green eyes, afraid, angry and accusing all at once. Merlin sees her reaching for his hand seeking his comfort even when it's his poison that runs in her veins. She was beautiful even in death, pale like the moon with beautiful black hair that Merlin combed for her before he set her body on fire. She would have killed Arthur if Merlin hadn't done it, but she was still Arthur's sister. She will always be Arthur's sister.

Sometimes Merlin sees Uther, a king beaten down by a sickness that he can't fight. He sees how a strong man wasted away to a shell of who he was. Merlin sees Uther with blue eyes that remind him so much of Arthur's, a defiance on an old face that Merlin loves on Arthur's. He can see the wide, unseeing eyes and he knows he could have saved the old king. He could have given Arthur his father, but that would have meant more deaths, unnecessary suffering for hundreds of others like him. Merlin saved hundreds of lives at the expense of Arthur's father. 

Somehow, Merlin doesn't think Arthur will see it that way.

"I would do anything for you," Arthur vows. 

Merlin wants to tell Arthur that there's no need because Merlin doesn't deserve anything from Arthur, not when he's been lying all this time, keeping secrets that he knows will mean the end of things as they are. But, Arthur pulls Merlin close and tells him about how tomorrow the entire world will know that Merlin has magic and that Arthur wants him at his side forever. 

"They'll accept you," Arthur promises, "Magic and all. The same way I have."

Merlin never imagined, the number of times he's pictured this moment--the truth about who he is and what he does--he never imagined that Arthur would be the one to say the words in their bed with his lips against Merlin's ear. Merlin wishes he could tell Arthur everything, starting from the moment he found out he had magic, to the dragon telling him of his destiny, the number of people Merlin has murdered for his king and land. He can see the way Arthur watches him, as though he expects all of the world's problems to be solved with this. Merlin knows Arthur wants details, long stories about how Merlin tried to keep it a secret, about why he did it. Merlin knows Arthur thinks this is the problem, the last thing between them, that after this everything will be out in the open.

There is no way Merlin can have this conversation tonight or any other night. He can never tell Arthur about Morgana and Uther. He can't tell him that the reason Mordred his dead is because Merlin killed him. He can't bring himself to say that Arthur is enough and that all Merlin is afraid of is that he himself isn't, that he has become someone who Arthur won't accept. 

Merlin fears no one else. He could stand before Camelot, in front of thousands of armies, eyes golden as he casts spell after spell, exerts his power over those who would hurt his king. Merlin is not afraid to let others see who he is, the power he holds within his hands. Merlin fears nothing but watching Arthur walk away.

"I love you," Merlin says, because that's all he can say in case one day nothing else is enough.

*

There are songs about the fall of Arthur and his sorcerer, about how the power in the hands of one will bring about the downfall of Camelot. Arthur hears them and he accepts them, because power generates fear and there is nothing he wouldn't do to keep Merlin by his side. He doesn't understand—when all the kingdoms are under his rule, when the people chant his name and sing praises, call him their One True King—Arthur doesn't get why Merlin's blue eyes look less alive than they did the night Arthur told him he knew. 

There are times when Arthur will find Merlin looking at him, a look of longing that tugs at his heart and sends all logic out of his head. At times like those, Arthur will send the entire court away, everyone but Merlin. He'll wait only until the doors are closed and then Merlin will be in his arms, lips and tongue and hands. Skin against skin and a frantic tugging, something ugly that spurs them on, until Merlin is begging, panting underneath Arthur, urging him on, wanting more than Arthur thinks he can give. And they'll fuck on Arthur's throne, on the table with the maps of Albion, on the floor, against the pillars. Merlin won't hold back and Arthur will drown in the moans and groans, the way Merlin hisses Arthur's name.

They'll calm down, dress and Merlin will always turn away. Arthur will reach for him, his fingers hovering over Merlin's shoulder and he doesn't know if he's allowed to touch, if Merlin is his enough to make that touch Arthur's right. Kingdoms mean nothing then. Land and power. It's all pointless because Arthur is nothing without Merlin.

"Stay," Arthur tells him. 

"I'm not going anywhere," Merlin answers, but he still won't turn.

Arthur's fingers ache to touch the black curls on Merlin's head, his eyes crave Merlin's deep blue ones, the light that used to shine there. "You're not really here," Arthur whispers, and it sounds harsh in the empty throne room. "Where did you go?"

"I don't know."

Arthur is angry, alone. "You have to know."

Merlin turns then, same blue eyes. Cold. Empty. "Tell me what you want me to say," he says.

Arthur can't say anything in return because he doesn't know what he wants Merlin to say.

"I love you," Merlin says.

Somehow, even then, Arthur believes him. 

"I do too," he whispers and then he closes the space between them and Merlin is in his arms, just a press of Arthur's lips on his temple. Merlin feels familiar then, and Arthur wonders why Merlin won't give him this, why Merlin refuses to come back. Arthur wonders what he did to push Merlin away.

*

Nights pass and Merlin tries, for Arthur's sake, to go back to who he was. He tries to remember the boy from Ealdor who came to Camelot looking for a place to learn, to grow. He tries to picture how he used to play with Will, how they waited in the forest for unsuspecting victims to play tricks on. Merlin tries to think of Gaius, who died on a pyre protecting Merlin, tries to remember the look in his mentor's eyes, the man who become the father Merlin never had. Merlin tries, but he isn't that boy anymore. He can't remember the last time he sat and looked at the stars, wondering how many of them were dragons breathing fire against the sky. 

Merlin knows he's hurting Arthur, making him insecure when there is no need. But this is who they are now. Merlin is this man now, hardened by the years. He is like Arthur, changed, for better or for worse is yet to be seen. Arthur is the king. Merlin is his sorcerer and adviser. What they share behind closed doors is separate from that, though that has changed also. They aren't boys anymore. There is no time for laughter because when dark times come to Camelot, Merlin and Arthur must ride them together. And if Arthur knew what Merlin has done— 

It never occurs to Merlin that for dark days to come to Camelot, Arthur must fall. 

*

There are no days for Arthur, no way for him to measure the darkness. It's eternal, blackness stretching from every direction. He can feel the heavy press of eternity on his chest, can almost feel the flames of his funeral pyre licking up his sides. There is no end in death, just a constant present.

Arthur's mind wanders, imagining hellfire consuming him alive. He sees the faces of men he's killed in battle, sees the way his kingdom crumbles, how his people starve. But most of all, Arthur sees Merlin. 

Arthur watches as forests fall, and cities rise. He sees the passage of time in the growth of trees, in the fading whisper of birds. Merlin is there, throughout the fall of Camelot, though he does not engage. Merlin is hiding, Arthur realizes. He lives on the edges of society, hiding from the laughter of children, and Arthur doesn’t need Merlin to tell him why he does it. 

There are, after all, no secrets after death.

Arthur knows the things Merlin has done for Camelot, the things Arthur has forced him to do, the things Arthur thanked him for. It's not just Morgana's pain that Arthur feels, but Uther's as well. He can feel the pain of all the men and women who fell under Merlin. The cries of children are loud in Arthur's ear, the air heavy with sorrow until it is all Arthur can breathe. Until it is all Arthur knows.

He knows, now, what it is to walk in Merlin's shoes.

-

There is a boy, a child with blue eyes and dark hair, who holds out his arms from a ruined home. The boy calls for help. Arthur reaches out a hand in the darkness towards the boy, but then Merlin is there. The touch feels so real that for a moment Arthur can do nothing but stand there, his eyes closed against the familiar sensation. It's overwhelming, the heat from Merlin's hands on Arthur's arm, the shadow of a breath near Arthur's ear. 

"Don't," Merlin whispers.

The child cries out again. 

"No," Merlin says. "He will kill you."

Arthur looks at the boy's frightened blue eyes. He would recognize those eyes anywhere. 

"He's a boy," Arthur says.

"He will grow up to kill you," Merlin answers. "Please, just let him die."

The little boy whimpers in pain, and though Arthur wants to move, he finds that he can't. He looks into Merlin's blue eyes, notices that the darkness Arthur has lived in is receding, that it has been since he got to this place. There is sadness in Merlin's eyes, an eternity in the lines on Merlin's face. 

"He's you," Arthur says.

Merlin doesn’t say anything, but that is answer enough. The revelation brings tears to Arthur's eyes, and it is a relief to know that there is greater pain than the one Arthur has been living in. 

"Merlin," Arthur says, "What happened to you?"

"Destiny," Merlin answers.

In the distance, the little boy cries out one last time. 

-

Arthur understands now why Merlin pulled away, why they became two different people, even when Arthur thought they were on the same page. He would do anything to go back and tell Merlin he is sorry for everything, that all of it is Arthurs fault. 

Arthur fell because he wanted too much too soon, because he cared more for Merlin than he did for his kingdom. But Merlin is never to blame for that. Arthur was king, and he had a duty to his people, a duty to Merlin. He was the one that failed, the one that should be begging for forgiveness a thousand times over. He wants to tell Merlin that he will never leave, wants to ask Merlin to stay. Because this is who they are, who they have always been from the moment they were born. 

They are a product of a destiny they couldn’t control, and all of it, it doesn’t matter because they're free now. Arthur has died to fulfill a destiny he stopped believing in when he lost Merlin. When he comes out of this place—and he _has_ to rise again, _has_ to see Merlin again—Arthur will do everything in his power to make Merlin see that they can be good together. They can be something whole and beautiful.

Arthur will tell Merlin that he loves him.

-

When Arthur wakes, he remembers.

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER ALERT: Arthur dies, as per canon. There is a section in this piece that discusses what happens to him during his death, in a sort of dream like way. No graphic descriptions of death though.


End file.
